


The Sun and the Moon-Maybe-Bird

by sometimeswritingsometimesdying



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Also kinda angsty, Angst, But whatever, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Music, This was not planned, and makes little to no sense, at all, icarus is mentined, idk - Freeform, me projecting on logan too much tm, overly extended metaphors, pat's parents aren't around a lot, self confidence issues i guess?, set in maybe the 80s or early 2000s? yeah, the title will make sense at the end, this is very cute, trust me - Freeform, we're here anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 06:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21231134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimeswritingsometimesdying/pseuds/sometimeswritingsometimesdying
Summary: Logan likes to think of himself as the moon.Patton is the sun.They're not supposed to touch, the sun and the moon, but they don't abide by the laws of physics.





	The Sun and the Moon-Maybe-Bird

**Author's Note:**

> i'm kinda proud of this tbh  
enjoy :)

The moon was in love with the sun.

He had been since the beginning, probably.

Well, the moon didn’t remember his beginning. In fact, he often wondered if he ever actually had one. Light and darkness cannot survive without each other. The sun and the moon knew this, very well, and they dared not touch, for whatever balance they had, which often precariously jittered and wobbled but never actually fell, would be broken.

But the moon wondered whether he did ever start being. If he ever did come to be something, someone. Someone with a heart and a soul, someone that was somehow known to others.

And the moon was indeed someone, but he was not _someone_. He was a boy, with dark hair and dark eyes and everything the moon has. Secrets and dark places and weak gravity that makes people flutter away rather easily, like birds perched on the edge of a tree branch.

To the moon, people were a lot like birds, and he was so far away from them he’d never understand what made them want to be birds. Perhaps, they liked it because they were unaware of being birds, as most people are.

They always think they’re free, but they’ll never see space. And the moon liked that. The moon, had, for the most part, the universe to himself.

The moon had a name, too, but not many used it. To him, the riddle What is yours but others use more? Never would’ve made sense. He said his own name to himself more than others said it to him, or about him.

He never forgot it, however. It was easy to not forget things when it’s one of the few things going on in his head.

Logan. That was his name. He also had a last name, but no one really cared much for it if not the occasional teacher. 

Logan wasn’t the actual moon, of course, but he did feel like it was the right analogy for him. He wasn’t exactly gloomy, but he wasn’t the brightest light either. He liked to be alone, and his voice would echo around his head, twisting and turning, until it sounded like someone else calling him. He used to fall for that trick a lot when he was a kid, but with time he learned to ignore when he heard the echo come back for him.

Then there was the sun. And once Logan didn’t know much about the sun, if anything at all. To him, the sun used to be like other people. He used to be like a bird.

But, when one took a closer look, at the sun’s bright eyes, golden hair, golden skin scattered with freckles, and radiating smile, they realized the sun was very much burned, from the inside out. The sun bursts into flames periodically, eyes gleaming and smile becoming radioactive, infecting everyone around him. The sun was a star, and all Logan was was an old piece of stone created from the sun’s birth.

Maybe the sun had come first.

The sun had a name too, a name that was said more than a thousand times each day, each hour, each minute, each second, until all you could hear was that sound burying itself in your mind, until you could never forget a name such as that of a boy such as him.

Patton. That was it.

The sun and the moon were never meant to touch, but it didn’t stop the two of them

No, instead, Logan and Patton didn’t abide by the laws of physics, or the rules of the universe, or whatever all the science books Logan read said.

Instead, they sat together under the trees, one reading the other drawing. They’d head out and go see a movie. Sometimes, the sun will come up in the middle of the night and ask the moon to come out with him, have some fun at some party the sun had been invited to.

Because everyone wants the sun at their party, but who wants the moon to be there? With its quiet eyes and calm nights.

And sometimes, the moon and the sun would just sit on Patton’s bed, which happened more often than not as his parents happened to rarely be around anymore.

They’d put on a cassette and play their favorite songs.

Sometimes, the sun would stand up, shining his radioactive smile, and Logan would follow him, and holding hands the sun and the moon would dance.

Two celestial objects dancing to jazz music, nonetheless.

And some days, they’d put on music and they’d just talk. About everything. About nothing. About whatever crossed their minds.

And sometimes, Logan would say stupid things. Things he’d only heard echoed in his mind along with his name.

“I think I’m like the moon.” Patton didn’t laugh. He never did. Logan wondered if it was because he was crazy enough to understand the things that slipped his mouth at times.

“How?” Logan shrugged. Patton rolled over to end up with his head in Logan’s lap. Logan smiled at him.

The moon’s smiles weren’t nearly as nice as the sun’s. They were harder to find, harder to notice. Slightly crooked, no matter how much he had tried to change it, slightly too small, slightly too him. People called him a lunatic sometimes. Which only added to his theory of being like the moon.

Patton hummed as Logan’s fingers carded through his hair, a song about summer on in the background. It was summer after all. The moon had a hard time realizing when time passed, when the seasons changed. He only new day and night, the occasional test date, which was very unuseful now that school had ended. His teachers always described him as a daydreamer, even with his high scores on exams, which wasn’t true. 

He wasn’t daydreaming, he was listening to his echo.

“Patton?”

“Yes?” he didn’t ask for him to complete his thought. Logan often forgot his trail of thought or got lost in something else. Sometimes he just forgot that he actually had to talk to explain what he’s thinking. Sometimes he’d just give up on his thoughts completely.

“You’re the sun.” Patton sat up, golden curls flopping back down over his forehead.

“That would make sense. I’m the sun and you’re the moon!” Patton tilted his head curiously. “They’re pretty far away though. And I like having you close.” Patton tilted his head the other way as if considering another side of the problem. “But the moon is very beautiful. And it brings light when it’s dark!”

Logan smiled at the other, wondering how he followed his thought process. “The sun reflects its light of the moon, making it shine, Patton.”

“Still.” Logan laughed quietly, as the music faded and moved onto something more melodic and sad.

“The sun is fundamental to life. Without it, everything else wouldn’t exist.” Patton’s lip quirked, feeling silly and giggly for some reason. Which made Logan feel silly and giggly too. And they made each other silly and giggly until they both started laughing, light and carefree and fun.

Like birds, they laughed.

Once they were done, several moments, or eternities as it seemed to Logan, they both fell down on the bed, facing each other.

They quieted, and the music seemed to do so with them.

Logan observed Patton. His freckles, the small gap between his front teeth that had been persistent through childhood and most of adolescence. His eyes, so alive and free and burning.

Icarus had gotten too close to the sun and died. But Logan wasn’t like Icarus. He was already too close to the sun, but he hadn’t died yet.

They moved together, at the same time, and like the beginning, neither started it. It just happened, as all things do. Some force of gravity at play perhaps.

They met in the middle, mouths fitting together clumsily, noses bumping, but in every way perfect.

Galaxies were created between them, stars burst and stars were born. The whole universe relapsed to the singularity and then back again.

Logan felt Patton’s hand settle on his cheek, and the two pulled apart reluctantly but remained close.

There was something simmering in him. Something that was lighter and lovelier and felt better than he had in a long time.

He felt free, alive. Because he had kissed the sun.

Logan got close enough to the sun to feel alive.

And he realized that he felt like a bird. Was this it? Had he finally learned what most people felt like? Like everything that was being showered in the light of the sun?

Logan thought that couldn’t have been possible. If everyone felt like he did at that moment, there wouldn’t be wars. There’s wouldn’t be blood spilled for stupid causes, people wouldn’t be cruel.

Everyone would feel like birds then.

He opened his eyes, searching for Patton’s blue, so blue ones.

“Do you feel like a bird?”

“I think I always have. Or maybe not. I don’t know Logan.” Patton laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Logan smiled, and this time he didn’t hide it. “I don’t know either.”

They smiled. Only for them.

And then the sun and the moon-maybe-bird fell forward, lips interlocking again, this time with more precision.

Logan decided that if Patton was the sun, he wanted to bask in his light forever.


End file.
